Seeing the round bamboo in the little monk's hand knocking on the top of the head of the Golden Pill monk, the Golden Pill monk groaned, his eyes slightly opened, his body stiffened, and blood was overflowing from his mouth, and his whole body fell down straight.

In just a moment, a Jindan monk died, and they watched from here, and they couldn't even stop him.

It cannot be said that it was too late, but they did not expect that after this little monk seriously injured the other party's tendons and veins, he would still kill him the next moment.

Didn’t it mean that the Buddhist children do not kill? Why is this an exception?

He said he was not a monk? In this world, his body and hair are the ones who have seen him shaved his head except for Buddhists?

But, this man has an unfathomable strength and a weird temper. No one of them dares to question him again.

After all, for those who are cultivating immortals, if a cultivator with low strength offends a strong man, he can kill him in every minute, and others will not say anything, because in the world of cultivating immortals, the strong are respected, and everything is about strength speaking!

"Do you want to experience it too?" Tang Ning retracted the round bamboo in his hand and looked at the golden elixir monks.

"I dare not." Several people bowed and paused, and the old man asked, "How do you call him?"

Tang Ning glanced at them, walked on the pillars of the bamboo in her hand as a staff, and walked slowly into the forest. A faint voice came out of her mouth and fell into their ears.

"Tang Master."

Tang poetry? Tang Master?

It was almost instinctive, and everyone felt that the two words he said should be the two words behind.

Seeing the figure gradually fading away until it disappeared from their sight, no one stopped it. Instead, he looked at the corpse in front of him and sighed.

"We have acquainted him, so let's send his body back!"

"I'm afraid they won't let it go." Another man said, looking in the direction where the young monk left, and said, "That person who left his name is probably not afraid of being seeking revenge."

"This person's strength is unfathomable. I don't know which Buddhist sect came from? He is a killer move, and he can defeat the enemy within one move, killing people without mercy. It is probably as he said, he is not a disciple of the Buddhist sect."

Hearing this, everyone was silent. There was a vague guess in their hearts that this little monk might be as he said, and that he was not a Buddhist disciple, because except for his bald head, he was not a Buddhist disciple at all.

At this time, the mysterious little monk in their mouths forced to walk to a place where no one was left. A mouthful of blood spurted out, and he was sitting under the big tree and gasping for breath.

"It's so dangerous! If there is another one, I will really reveal it." She wiped away the blood from the corner of her mouth and murmured.

Xiao Hei, who was parked on her shoulder, was about to speak when his little eyes moved and he looked at the black figure that appeared in front of Tangning like a ghost.

Tang Ning thought it was the Jindan monks who followed him. He held Yuanzhu in one hand and was about to stand up when he met the person in front of him. He was not someone else, but the evil spirit who was obviously very beautiful but wearing a ghost mask.

"Haha, donor, this is our third meeting. I think you must not be destined to be with me, but with me."
Chapter completed!